Phew. By some mad miracle, I actually pulled through this month. There were times at which the Field of Bones loomed up too close for comfort. But, nope, not this time. I’ve completed my quota for March (in fact, technically over-achieved), and marched ever closer to completing my heavy metal army of Slaaneshi freaks.
The reason for my panic this month was one simple factor: edge highlighting. For some reason, I decided a colour scheme that required at least four layers of ever-fine lines on almost every square millimetre of model was a good idea for a timed challenge.
While edge highlighting these guys may have been an absolute pain, I’m really pleased with how they’re coming out. The wacky shapes of the Rogue Trader sculpts really come alive when you draw the detail out.
But which models received this treatment in March? Well, the heart and soul of any Space Marine army, of course! The humble Tactical Squad and their Dedicated Transport.
The classic Perry-sculpted Rogue Trader Chaos Dreadnought is just a brilliant model; unique in Warhammer history, and so radically weird that it almost escapes the general design language of the setting. If you’d never studied your Warhammer history and never seen the original Space Marine Dreadnought – with its stumpy legs, pot belly and grinning face – you’d never really understand where this mutated monstrosity came from (nor where the modern Contemptor originated, either).
I’m so happy to have a specimen of this model in my collection, kindly donated by my mate and semi-regular Dungeon Master Tom. Thanks Tom. I promise we will actually play an TTRPG session soon.
The first and major challenge (after sticking the damn thing together) was figuring out what was what. This model is just so riddled with weird, mushy, hand-sculpted details that it can be a headache trying to figure out what colour should go where. Cable management is clearly not a priority in the hellforges of the Warp.
With a colour scheme for my renegade troopers as a guide, I began by plotting out which parts of the model were trim, which were black armour and which were cables. One quick, messy basecoat on each of these parts later, and it was starting to make a lot more sense.
Right, so that January went by pretty fast, didn’t it? You know what they say: “Time flies when you’re having fun. But don’t have too much fun because eventually you’ll create a Chaos god of hedonism and excess.” The Eldar learned that the hard way.
You may remember from my introductory postthat I was struggling a bit to find a colour scheme for my burgeoning Rogue Trader Emperor’s Children army.
I wanted to both embrace the colour-puke of a true Oldhammer Chaos army, while also giving the force some kind of consistency. I wanted to avoid blue, if I could help it, as all my Chaos Space Marine armies of the past have somehow ended up largely blue. I wanted to lean towards Goblin Green bases but not too far (for both flexibility’s sake and because 40k only really embraced the pure green base in second edition).
In short, my colour scheming was full of contradictions and competing ideals. Much like the concept of Chaos itself. Perfect! It’s a sign!
If we’ve not met, my name’s James, and I’m a writer and miniature painter from South Australia. Though now, for my sins, I’m living in England! You may remember me from such events as FMS, SMC, WMO, Salute and more, hobby publications like 28 Mag, or from my own (neglected) social media home at @illuminator_hobby.
I’m thrilled to be taking part in my first ever OWAC. It seems like such a natural next step on my hobby career, retreating as I am from modern Warhammer and the ever-changing, wallet-emptying meta of 40K 10th.
Hello, dear readers and fellow miniature hobbyists,
Can you believe it? 2023 is coming to an end. Mad, right? At points it felt like it never would. And at others, it felt that it was rushing by at a break-neck speed.
At the risk of sounding a bit cliche, it’s been one hell of a year. There have been some dizzying highs and some absolutely crushing lows. And that’s just in terms of the hobby side of my life! I’m keeping the more personal palavers for the private journals and therapists.
But despite all that, I’ve certainly been productive. Writing notes for this blog over Christmas, as the family around me rushed to wrap pressies and prepare lunch, I blew my own mind with the amount of miniatures that have passed across my painting desk!
And here I’d been thinking 2023 had been an unusually slow year for my miniature building and painting. As you’ll see, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It seems that my focuses have changed ever so slightly. But that’s no bad thing, really (as I’ve been trying to tell myself).
2023 has been a year of variety and exploration. It’s been really liberating to just pick up any little thread of interest and run with it, if not great for my wallet.
Join me on this journey into introspection, looking back on the hobby year that was and learning lessons along the way.
Last winter
The start of 2023 was probably what gave me the initial feeling that I wasn’t achieving all that much in my miniature hobby. But that’s because I was picking up another hobby all together: photography.
Last year, I bought myself a Fujifilm X-T30 II and started wandering around cities and villages, snapping away. I’ve always liked photography—the act of composing the perfect image, the constant search for beauty, and the battle against luck and timing. But I’d never taken it particularly seriously until I picked up this camera. And I haven’t put it down since!
I found that having a dedicated tool for the craft (as opposed to a simple smartphone camera) got me excited about the process, and got me out and about scouring the streets in search of images. Photography proved a bit of a lifeline in that way, actually, as I’d just gone through a dramatic, life-shaking breakup and needed a good distraction
So, while I’m still no master photographer, I have to say thank you to that little machine of lenses and sensors. You really helped save my sanity!
I wasn’t entirely quiet on the hobby front though. I finished a rather silly little Space Marine diorama that I entitled ‘Nothing Personal, Kid’, and took some miniatures to Salute in London, arguably my favourite show of the year.
While I rushed to finish the Salute figure of the year, failing to do it justice, I was incredibly surprised and delighted to receive a bronze in Historical Single for my take on Warlord Games’ Vercingentorix! From Mr “Two Thin Coats” himself, and all! Maybe it was the fancy pants that secured the win, but I was also quite happy with how the metallics came out on this fellow.
Oh, one more highlight from the early months of 2023 was picking up a copy of Fantasy Figures Illustrated to find an image of my Wise Woman bust—entered into the London Plastic Modeller’s Show in 2022—was published… under the wrong name. Fuming!
Spring
As the flowers began to bloom and the sun started to shine over Britain, I was indoors powering through my entries for Warhammer Fest.
Having missed last year’s event in the great ticketing kerfuffle of 2022, I was desperate to make the most of my trip to Manchester. Little did I know how that would turn out.
My two main entries, Gandalf in Dol Guldur and my Epic-scale Lord of Change, were genuine labours of love. Having had a lot of fun making my Hobbit House a few years ago, I wanted to create another Lord of the Rings scene, this time using the fantastically evocative The Hobbit version of Gandalf as the focus.
It’s not often I start off a piece with a fully-fledged image in my mind, but this time I did. Imagining the grey wizard stalking cautiously through the Necromancer’s lair by moonlight, I wanted to paint a suitably spooky backdrop for the character and I feel like I achieved that, to some extent.
But I failed to create appropriate levels of contrast in this piece. Grey on grey was always going to be a challenge, and while I was able to draw the eye with the full moon and Gandalf’s white hair, I don’t think I did enough to separate the figure from the environment. The pose of the model itself proved an issue, as I didn’t even have a visible face to use as a focal point!
But hey, we have to try these things out, and I’m at least pleased with the hand-sculpted brick and ironwork, the UHU Glue spider webs and the night-time background.
The Epic Lord of Change was another thing entirely. I aimed to paint as brightly as possible, creating a lurid, eye-searing daemon bursting forth into real space.
The model itself is relatively stock, but I did swap out the raised hand for a more modern, open one and sculpted in some trailing flames. Using some small-scale iron beams and bits from Adeptus Titanicus, I attempted to create a tiny scene of destruction, as if the daemon had been summoned into an apocalyptic battlefield. I painted fluorescent green flames into cracks in this wasteland, as well as along the base of the suitably gnobbly plinth.
But, alas, this piece didn’t get a look in either. I’m more disappointed in this result than in Gandalf’s, as I was genuinely pretty happy with the application of paint, the levels of contrast, smoothness of blends and general selection of colours. But I suppose in a field as competitive as Golden Demon, it just didn’t have the goods. It was later honoured with a nice bit of professional photography at the Fen Model Show, though, which made it all worthwhile.
I did also attempt a few other pieces for Golden Demon, including a version of the classic Galrauch model, but made the wise decision to focus on quality over quantity instead.
In an attempt to get my mojo back after Warhammer Fest, I pulled an academic Orc bust out of my pile of opportunity and tried out something new. I wanted to really get that whole thing of ‘being lit by moonlight’ right, and so attempted a little experiment in directional lighting.
Now, I don’t have an airbrush, and I refuse to learn, so doing this by brush proved a bigger challenge than expected. But I had fun and learned a lot. Taking multiple reference photos of the model itself being hit by a direct light helped me plan out where brighter colours should be placed, and a lot of patient glazing helped me to create the necessary shifts in brightness.
It’s far from perfect, but it’s also probably the best thing I’ve painted this year from a purely technical standpoint. Good grounding for next year!
Oh, I can’t forget, with Warhammer 40k 10th edition arriving around this time, I started building a few more Space Marines (as is necessary for all 40k players). This included a squad of Lamenters (made from Space Marine Heroes kits I got relatively cheap) and a remake of my very first custom Space Marine character from all the way back in 4th edition.
Behold, Chapter Master Marcus reborn! He’s yet to receive a lick of paint though, sorry Marcus.
Summer
The summer days didn’t quite heat up as much as they had done in previous years. But the hayfever stayed relatively under control. Small wins!
Around this time I started get a real itch for colour and chaos. I’d been watching a lot of YouTube videos on earlier editions of Warhammer, and so I found the call of the Goblin Green bases growing stronger. It couldn’t be denied.
Thankfully, I had just the right models to start scratching that itch: some Kev Adams Night Goblins. But I needed a better reason to paint them up than simply “I feel like it”. That reason turned out to be Warcry.
If there’s something strange I’ve come to understand about my neurodivergent self, is that I really love writing army lists. I love the thrill of the Excel spreadsheet, rummaging through army books and PDFs to write up usable, legal lists for games I’m very likely never to play. I love the problem-solving aspect of it, as well as creating sane limitations and realistic expectations for my eventual miniature making.
That’s exactly how I started to approach the Goblins, creating a number of lists for Warcry that would give me some boundaries to push against when hobbying. And with that done, I kicked off the season of Oldhammer.
I may be in love with these goofy little guys, but apparently Instagram wasn’t so thrilled. This year has seen engagement on my profile drop spectacularly. My posts are just getting seen by fewer and fewer people. Of course, I understand that by not posting Reels and memes I’m limiting myself in the current landscape—but to hell with it. I’m doing this for the passion of it! And right now, my passion is in ridiculously brightly coloured Goblins and styrofoam ball cacti.
Instead of Instagram, I’ve started posting more on private groups, on Reddit and my own blog. I’ve come to hate the number-chasing of social media. I just want to be part of a real community instead. Of course, it’s frustrating not having my hard work circulated like it used to be, but this is certainly not my full-time job—which it really has to be today if you want to rack up the likes and follows today.
But pursuing that feeling of tight-knit community has paid off. Through the rather niche “28 community” (we really need a new overarching term for the wild, DIY punk approach to 28mm wargaming), I’ve discovered a whole host of new games, hobbyists and inspirations.
Taking part in the 28 Mag Challenge led me to discovering Ben Rose’s brilliant game Tonks!, which I absolutely fell in love with this year. It has totally fulfilled my desire for fast, simple, brutal, fun wargaming that encourages converting and scratchbuilding. I’ve played a couple games of Tonks! with friends and even non-wargaming relatives, and it’s been a huge hit—even if my posts about it on the dreaded Gram weren’t.
Still, building and painting my Tonks! and the accompanying moon-base modular game board, was a real highlight of my year. I even took inspiration from the brilliant Bill Making Stuff to create a little stop-motion animation featuring my treaded beasts.
Speaking of games, I also ran my first proper tabletop role-playing game—to great success. I prepped for weeks to run a brutal, wacky and positively grimdark one-shot of Mörk Borg, using the setting of Realm of Chaos (1988) to add some Warhammer flavour.
This was a real learning experience, I tell you what! Writing scenarios and fluffy set-pieces is very different to bringing it to the tabletop. Still, my close friends are experts at rolling dice, and so were good sports through the whole evening. Only one of our characters was torn apart by monsters, which is apparently pretty non-lethal by Mörk Borg standards.
My favourite part of this one-shot was occasionally rolling on the D1000 Chaos Gifts table from the Realm of Chaos books, giving my players’ characters unpredictable mutations. One ended up with a mer-dog for a pet and a scorpion tail, while another was gifted unbearable flatulence.
And that’s the beauty of gaming with like-minded friends. It’s all very DIY, very punk, very loosey-goosey and creative. It’s an exercise in shared storytelling.
The only problem is that my ADHD powers are too much for my gaming group sometimes. I’m always jumping to the next project before they can even catch up to the last. After the Mörk Borg game I started to explore Forbidden Pslam (the skirmish game based off of its ruleset) and even made a couple warbands and monsters for that system.
Today might not be the day that they hit the tabletop… but one day!
The last big hobby event of the summer was Fen Model Show, a great community get-together in Ely, Cambridgeshire. Not only was the trip there with my mate Ben an absolute delight, the show itself was really uplifting.
Here I found the community I was looking for. It was a pleasure to get face-to-face with some of the most beautiful miniatures of 2023, and an honour to receive a small prize from the Diddy Miniature Company (for which model, I’m not quite sure, but it was a lovely way to wrap up the season, in any case).
Autumn
With 40k 10th now well and truly arrived, it was time to play a few games. Preparing for this edition, I’d built a few more Space Marines, an Inquisitorial warband, and a few more units for my beloved Custodes army.
Of course, if you’re familiar at all with the 40k meta, you’ll understand the issues I quickly ran into playing Custodes as my main army…
My little gaming group decided to take a weekend trip up to Warhammer World to throw some dice around. This was a really, really awesome trip, as I always love walking through the exhibition rooms there. Playing my first game of 40k in years on one of the venue’s biggest, most impressive tables, was definitely a highlight of the year for me. Even if I was rather horrendously tabled in two turns by Ben’s Tau!
I’ve never had the best luck with my dice rolling, but this was another level of hurt entirely. Still, the following doubles game went much better and featured all the lovely cinematic moments I’d been looking for—including my Shield Captain taking down a rogue Grey Knight Terminator Squad with his dying breath, and a Necron Overlord blowing up battlesuits with his Tachyon Arrow from across the blasted cityscape.
Shout out to my recently repainted Land Raider, which proved MVP of the whole day. Who doesn’t love a nigh-indestructible golden war engine?
But my trouncing at the hands of the vastly overwhelming Tau force opened my eyes to something: I’m not really sure I’m that much into large-scale wargaming, especially not ‘live’ games with constantly changing metas.
I’m much more into my gritty skirmish-scale games, in which every model is a storied character with many heroic deeds under their belt. I love it when every dice roll is meaningful, when decisions have impact, and when the characters you’ve built and grown to love face up against impossible odds. Maybe that’s why I play an army of about a dozen models in 40k!
Tonks! has been perfect for this—a single-model game in which positioning and improvising tactics is crucial. It’s also a kitbasher’s dream, much like another setting I’ve fallen in love with this year: Turnip28.
Max Fitzgerald’s tuberous world of alternative Napoleonics has been in my periphery for a while now. I’ve always loved the aesthetics of it—the mud, the beaked helmets, the Burton-esque creatures and buildings. It’s an incredible unique blend, executed to near perfection.
Of course I had to dip my toe (or whole leg) in! Over a couple of months, and a few visits to Wargaming conventions around Berkshire, I built up the basics of a Turnip28 regiment: the “Lucky” 7th Mandrakken Dragoons.
I had a tonne of fun playing around with historical models, exploring a whole side of the miniature hobby I hadn’t previously touched. Of course, it’s hardly historically accurate, but discovering just how brilliant the Perry Miniatures knights are (and how great value the kit is in comparison to Warhammer kits) was truly eye opening.
Autumn was a month for building, in general. Attempts at painting seemed to fizzle, but huffing glue fumes and plastic shavings came easy. I ended up building three or more whole armies for various games and systems during these months, taking a serious dent out of my to-do pile.
One of these armies—now primed and sitting alongside my Turnip regiment—was my Hordes of Chaos army for Warhammer Fantasy 6th edition.
Somehow, over the years, I’ve been able to collect a pretty decent number of Juan Diaz Daemonettes. Ya know, some of the most beautiful, most sought-after Warhammer metals ever! I had previously painted them up as part of a now-abandoned Hedonites of Slaanesh army, but felt I hadn’t done them justice in this Citadel Contrast-heavy scheme. I wanted to give them another go.
Alongside my aforementioned gaming group (who I managed to convince to start building their own 6th edition armies), I decided to stick these models on square bases and build them into a fully playable 6th edition army, just in time for the release of The Old World.
Now, I know Daemons of Chaos aren’t going to feature in this new game, but I just had to put together this army out of pure nostalgia. I was introduced to Warhammer around this period, and so, of course, it’s still the absolute height of Warhammer to me.
I’m yet to even decide on a colour scheme for this army yet, however. Who knows when I’ll have it finished by (if ever), but hopefully it can hit the tabletop at least once in the coming year! We can always hope.
At the same time as I was stripping this army in Dettol baths, I also started to prepare another collection, sowing the seeds for next year’s main project: my participation in the Old World Army Challenge!
Outside of building and spray-painting, I also brought this blog back to life, joined various communities on Reddit and finalised my entries for the 28 Mag Challenge, including a pair of Tonks! and my Forbidden Psalm: Last War warband: the Ratgrad Headhunters. I’m not particularly happy with the latter of these, but the process of kitbashing them, creating a background for them, and experimenting with photography certainly made up for the perceived shortcomings.
I also made a fast and furious piece of terrain, and a couple matching cube-headed ghosts, for the Yellow Cube contest, run by Tonks! creator, Ben. This was a competition to kitbash and paint models based around a truly Lovecraftian Mörk Borg supplement. How could I not?
All told, autumn was a time of building, converting and kitbashing. I really wore out my plastic clippers!
Winter once again
The colder, darker months arrived far too soon. I kicked off this season with a secret modeling project for someone very dear to me. I won’t share it here to keep it special, but let’s just say I kitbashed and sculpted one of His Dark Materials’ most iconic characters.
Beside that, December began with my first-ever trip to Wales, in order to attend the first-ever Diddycon.
With no real interest in winning but a huge desire to meet up with painting compatriots, I took along a few pieces that hadn’t seen the light of day for a while. Of course, I didn’t take away any trophies this time, but I had an absolute blast in any case. Diddycon proved that there’s a lot of goodwill in our niche community, as well as a great deal of creativity.
The fact that a small group of dedicated hobbyists can make a show like this a reality, and have it attended by a really quite decent number of first-class painters, just goes to show how passionate people are about plastic soldiers.
It was also great to have Instagram handles and QR codes attached to display tags. This made it easy to connect with fellow creators (even though my feelings on Instagram as the main platform for the miniature-painting community are mixed at best).
I left Diddycon with a renewed desire to improve my painting—to focus again on competition pieces and really pour love into a single piece.
But I also have to go with my heart, right? And right now, my heart is telling me to go all out on full-scale army projects and characterful skirmish pieces. To put it another way, I’m inspired more by Ana Polanšćak than Kirill Kanaev at the moment! Both are incredibly talented, but each has a different drive and intention behind their miniature art.
Oh, and speaking of Ana, I’ve recently added a couple more spooky alien robots to my Grobnik warband, and have taken my previous paintjobs on existing models to the next level. These Garden of Hecate models are just so great—capturing both the passionate naivety of Oldhamer sculpting and pulp sci-fi goodness. I haven’t done anything particularly interesting with the colour scheme here, because the default one is just so perfect for these characters. I just hope my renditions have done them justice.
Wrapping it all up
I’m ending this year by ordering the last few necessary pieces of lead from Ebay for my Emperor’s Children army and feverishly trying to finish this gargantuan post.
The fact that this post now reaches nearly 4,000 words has really shown me how much I’ve done this year, despite some real personal setbacks.
Should I be proud? Should I be terrified?! Should I have spent the energy or money differently?
Shoulda, woulda, coulda. The important thing to any creative—any artist—is to just exist within your artform. It’s to practice, to play, to fail, to create. That’s the drive. That’s life. That’s time well spent.
And I hope your time spent going through this monster of a post has been worthwhile for you as well. I hope I’ve been able to spread some inspiration and do my part for our wonderful community of painters, punks, gamers and assorted miniature-loving maniacs.
A thousand still-slick torches in the deep dungeons of the world suddenly burst back to life. The filthy feet of goblins hurriedly scuttle from their nests, and green fingers grasp rotting spears. The last sane men don their helmets, sharpen their swords and utter prayers unheard, their gods long dead. And above all, the dark powers laugh and plot, the pieces of their great game preparing for war unending.
That is to say, I’m kicking off my hobby blog again.
TONKS!
Hey. If we haven’t had the pleasure, my name’s James, and I’m a miniature painter, wargamer and writer from South Australia. (Well, I live in the South of England now, for my sins.)
I’m proud to say I’ve won a couple big awards at mini painting competitions like Salute, World Model Expo and Scale Model Challenge. And, like most good hobbyists, my “pile of opportunity” is far too big.
When it comes to the miniature hobby, there are a few things I love more than anything: – Gritty, over-the-top narratives – Kitbashing and converting – Creating unique warbands and armies, each full of colourful individuals and disgusting weirdos – Oldhammer of all flavours, with all the lead and Goblin Green bases that brings – Middlehammer and its consequences (think 6th Edition WFB) – Simple, fast-paced and brutal dice-rolling combat – Collecting characterful sculpts, organising them according to (loose) official rules, and then taking my own interpretations as far as possible
The Ratgrad Headhunters – My Forbidden Psalm: Last War warband
It’s this last point that I’d love to single out. I believe the miniature painting hobby is, at its heart a collaborative art form. The sculpt of a model, even one as simple as your bog-standard Space Marine, is a work of art by a talented creator. The colours laid on top of the plastic or metal represent the art of the painter. Neither could exist without the other.
And then the full expression of that art emerges in games played with these pieces. Grand stories of might and magic unfold on gaming tables when two fully painted, fully realised armies face each other. It becomes so much more than the sum of its parts. A true gesamtkunstwerk. Yeah. Google it.
So why do I go by “Illuminator”?
Like the illuminators of old, I aim to interpret the word of that ancient god “Inspiration”. But instead of illuminating manuscripts with gold leaf and toxic natural pigments, I’m going to be painting horrible little ghouls and warmachines with manufactured acrylics. It’s pretty much the same thing.
It’s my hope that, through this blog (that I hope to keep up to date as thoroughly as possible) I can share my love for the hobby and the far-out creative philosophies that come with it.
I also hope that you’ll join me in this journey, sharing your own work and thoughts. Because this art of ours is nothing without collaboration.
In that spirit, I thought I’d kick off by sharing some of my absolute favourite sources of inspiration.
First, let’s start with Instagram, where I spend most my hobby time. (@illuminator_hobby) These are some of the accounts that WOW me with every single post.
And, of course, a good hobbyist has to read, watch and listen widely. Appreciate the world around you, explore the long history of art and find inspiration everywhere.
Alrighty! I think that’s enough for now. Be sure to follow the blog (either via WordPress or add it to your RSS feed) or my Instagram account (again, it’s @illuminator_hobby) to keep up to date with my hobby havoc.
Hey hobbyists, it’s your roving reporter James here, writing to you on my way back to London (overloaded with luggage, as usual).
It’s the aftermath of Warhammer Fest 2023, innit?
By this point, we’ll have all admired the incredible Golden Demon winners, gotten a taste of 10th edition 40k, and maybe even spent too much money on new models.
Now comes the hangover. It’s the moment you’re either buzzing with excitement and new ideas, or coming away disappointed and unsure of where to go next with your hobby. Unfortunately, I think I’m more in the latter camp.
Of course, I don’t want this post to take anything away from those for whom Warhammer Fest 2023 was an uplifting experience, or to diminish the efforts of any of the talented creators that truly made the event. I applaud every single entrant and bow down to the Demon winners themselves. Instead, this is a means to work through my own conflicting feelings about the state of Warhammer and the broader miniature hobby.
Because I think, after 15+ years deeply invested in the world of Warhammer, it’s time to have a frank discussion.
We’ve been waiting so long …
The last Warhammer Fest that many of us in the UK will remember was all the way back in 2019, before a certain deadly disease put everything on hold.
Fair enough, you can’t cram thousands of hobbyists into Coventry Arena when breathing could put you in hospital.
In that time, those of us lucky enough to have everything we needed already could really focus on our hobby. Gamers fleshed out huge armies in those pandemic years and the top painters of the world refined their already masterful skill. The first major in-person Warhammer event post-pandemic was always going to be a big one.
And then it wasn’t. Golden Demon 2022 will have been a sore point for many hobbyists, myself included. You may remember two rounds of waiting on the Eventbrite page for tickets that disappeared in the space of seconds. As has become a bit of a pattern, demand was severely underestimated.
Of course, GW obviously had its reasons for hosting a stripped-down event at the Nottingham headquarters. However, the ticketing debacle certainly left a sour taste in many mouths, and surely took away from the competition itself. Think of all the pieces that never hit the shelves. All those months of work…
So, the news of a full Warhammer Fest coming sooner than imagined, to a much larger venue, was very welcome.
With remnant paranoia from the previous year’s disappointment, I was on the ticket page(s) for 2023 the second they opened, and had checked out shortly after. Three-day Fest and Golden Demon tickets secured.
But of course I spent far too much than I would have wanted to. GW was rightly criticised in the weeks prior to ticket release for withholding prices and details.
How much would we be spending for the privilege of entering our already expensive pieces into the competition, or our large armies into tournaments? Did you even have to buy a three-day pass for your GD entry to count? We just weren’t told.
And so, when it came time to secure tickets, I’m sure many of you will have done exactly what I did: buy them immediately and worry about the (not insignificant) costs of tickets, travel and accommodation later.
If I was more of a conspiracy theorist, I might even think the deafening silence from GW was a conscious business tactic. But that would be unfair… wouldn’t it?
Waiting even longer
And so, with tickets secured and Golden Demon pieces completed to “that’ll-have-to-do” standard, I excitedly waited for the doors to open on Warhammer Fest 2023.
I travelled up the country with my duffle bag of clothes and suspicious-looking carry case of models. I was lucky enough to be able to stay in a nearby Cheshire town with family, saving me BIG on hotel costs. For those without friends or family in the area, accommodation itself over the bank holiday weekend would have been a HUGE hit to the finances. But that’s just the price you pay for any multi-day event.
Anyway, the hype was real.
It was a lovely spring day when I arrived on Saturday morning. I had rocked up a bit later in the morning and missed the queues for entry entirely, so getting in was no issue at all.
We were greeted with a fun little laser-quest-style entrance hall, and then a main hall absolutely heaving with hobbyists. Cosplayers milled around, people snapped photos and rushed to games or talks, others crowded eagerly around the Golden Demon cabinets.
What was immediately noticeable, though, was the hours-long queue to checkout at the event store. It snaked through the entire hall, and then through a winding series of barriers – hundreds and hundreds of people long. Impatient faces carried armfuls of unopened boxes and prints. I can only imagine the astronomical sales revenue passing through the checkout on Saturday morning alone.
There were also no advertised prices on the items at the event store, encouraging punters to rush in and grab items for indeterminate prices in fear of missing out. If I link this back to the idea of keeping schtum on ticket prices ahead of the event, I can’t help but think GW is relying on eager fans parting with their money based on scarcity alone.
The line to register models for Golden Demon was much shorter, and the process simple and efficient. But having the registration line cut in front of one whole row of cabinets – forcing onlookers to crane their necks over a barrier to see models from afar – was not a great design choice.
Other lines, like those to enter the auditorium for announcements, were similarly long. I heard tell the waits for 10th edition demos exceed three-and-a-half hours in some cases. And lines to get onto gaming tables were a cause for stress.
Even if Warhammer is your life – if it consumes every waking moment and you see hunky Space Marines in your dreams – a weekend primarily spent waiting just doesn’t sound much fun. Unless, of course, you’re there with a group of friends and are happy to chat the whole way down the queue.
Again, I think this issue stems from an underestimation of demand. Warhammer is surely one of the world’s most popular sci-fi/fantasy properties, and it just keeps getting bigger every year.
We’ve recently seen anticipated released sell out in seconds and break the GW website (*cough* The Lion *cough*). And this weekend we’ve seen queues to rival the Queen’s funeral. That’s not even to mention Golden Demon… yet.
On the plus side
Of course, there were many reasons to love Warhammer Fest 2023.
For one, it was the first time we were all able to get together as an international hobby family for years. So many discussions were had and countless friendships were made. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it was the hobbyist socialising that made the entire event worthwhile.
Cosplay also played a major role this year, which I loved. It has always impressed me how people can create such detailed, accurate costumes. It’s a whole other artform that deserves its place in the spotlight.
The Titan Walk was also a sight to behold, if only for the astonishing display of disposable income on one gigantic battlefield. I too would love to pilot a second-hand cars’ worth of resin in an apocalyptic battle of laser beams and nuclear missiles – it doesn’t get more rad than that.
Golden Demon 2023 was one of the first GD’s I’ve seen with more than enough cabinets to house all the entries comfortably, though the shelves were still crowded. Thankfully we live in a world in which everyone has a high-def camera in their hand constantly, so it’s not like we’ll never see the pieces. It would just be nice to get properly up close and personal – maybe with a system in place to keep people moving along the rows at a comfortable but decent pace.
The introduction of a scavenger hunt was a nice little touch to keep young ‘uns and the truly dedicated entertained throughout the weekend.
But the thing is… you shouldn’t need a gimmick like a scavenger hunt to keep attention and make the three-day ticket worth it. There should be enough outside of this to keep people busy.
And I just don’t think there was.
I came, I saw, I left
One of my favourite parts of previous Warhammer Fests was getting a backstage look into the development of Warhammer itself.
Heading into the halls to speak to rules-writers, authors, illustrators, ‘Eavy Metal-ers and model designers was always truly enlightening. Flipping through folders of concept art and getting a look at pre-production models made you appreciate the incredible amount of work that goes into creating the fantasy worlds we all love.
As a business, GW seems to be aiming to monopolise hobby spend – in terms of share of wallet, time dedicated and social media influence. As part of this push, the company looks to be focusing efforts and putting out a unified (even sanitised) voice in all things hobby. There’s no real space anymore for individual voices at the company to shine through. And that’s a real shame.
Instead of a small(ish) company of dedicated nerds putting their various passions and talents into something wonderfully organic and creative, there is one version of the truth, marketed through a slick corporate machine, or outsourced to carefully vetted and NDA-signing hobbyists.
And here’s where my main criticism comes in. I no longer feel love from Games Workshop. I no longer feel a general sense of anarchic creativity in the same way I did in the days of forums and mail-order parts. Instead, I see Warhammer as a general extension of the MCU/Fortnite/Star Wars zeitgeist.
Games Workshop has truly matured as a powerful, world-wide profit-making machine. And Warhammer has never seemed more like just another ‘product’.
Maybe I’m just getting old. Maybe I need to focus my hobby energies elsewhere. But I still yearn for the days of blister packs and herohammer-esque custom character creation.
I miss feeling like Warhammer could be mine, instead of something controlled and approved by committee.
If I were Emperor … or just CEO
I’m sure I’ve killed all chances of ever working at Games Workshop by now, but if I did rise up the ranks somehow and earned complete creative control, there are a few things I would change.
Let’s dream together, shall we?
Rethink Warhammer Fest: Instead of a single weekend event, there would be more tailored events. For example, a proper gaming weekend with hundreds of tables and talks with rules writers. Then, later, have a purely Golden Demon weekend, with ‘Eavy Metal and key creators on hand.
This year was marked by a fair bit of wasted potential. We need more stands, less advertising and more behind-the-scenes insight.
Change the Golden Demon format: There are, of course, a number of names in the painting competition scene that so thoroughly dominate the rankings that Golden Demons have never felt more out of reach. Of course, higher competition means higher quality overall. But I also see no reason why Golden Demon couldn’t be run as an open-format competition like World Model Expo. WMO has far more entries, in a wider variety of categories, to judge. And that’s not put on by a global hobby powerhouse. Perhaps categories themselves could also be tweaked (Middle Earth, in particular, could do with more variety).
Focus on quality, not quantity: Games Workshop, in its effort to conquer the entire gamut of nerddom, has spread its IP far too thin. In my view, shovelware games and questionable tie-in products have cheapened the Warhammer brand.
There have also been a few more ‘misses’ than ‘hits’ in terms of model releases lately, but this is entirely my subjective opinion. This could be a golden age in your eyes, and that’s totally valid, as well.
Let the creators be heard: It’s great that Games Workshop has opened up to the community by sharing popular painters’ work on their channels, but it would be great to hear more from the voices actually making Warhammer as well. Show us that there is a talented, passionate team working on your games, not just cogs in a machine.
Rethink influence: The leveraging of influencers to showcase products has its merits, and has certainly helped GW reach new hobbyists, but the company might as well hire some of them full-time at this point. A few popular GW-friendly influencers are seen time and time again, and I just hope their passion and talent isn’t being exploited.
Embrace dissent and chaos: The Warhammer community is carefully managed so as to paint a consistently positive picture. It’s a masterclass in public relations, but down that road leads stagnation and complacency. GW should be more open to criticism, enable comments on Youtube, and use criticisms as a means of improving future releases.
And, on the flipside, hobbyists need to be more critical as well. I’m not saying here that you should stop enjoying things. I just don’t think anyone should be blindly dedicated to any company, no matter how awesome the products.
My poor little Gandalf, from about as close as I could get while the registration line was in place.
My next Golden Demon
My one goal in my hobby life is to get past the first cut, at least once. It’s probably not going to happen for a while, at least until I go part-time at work and start spending serious time at the painting table … but one can dream!
There’s no point hiding that I’m a little disheartened to come away, yet again, without even a green sticker. But I also recognise that there’s a long way to go still in my hobby journey. I know I have a number of other things in my life that simply mean more to me at the moment, and that winning a Demon means near-monomaniacal dedication. The masters of today are on a whole ‘nother level, with tens of thousands of hours of practice, learning and skill under their belts.
Saying all that, I think this might be my last Golden Demon. At least for a couple years. I just haven’t come away from any recent Warhammer Fest feeling great. And, like the legend himself, Vince Venturella, has recently discussed, I feel the format of the competition and its surrounding marketing is getting in the way of the experience itself.
The classic ‘winner-takes-all’, three-medal-per-category format does well to constantly drive up quality in a painting arms race. But conflict can be generated in such a race. Painters are encouraged to hide their entries until the day in order to gain a psychological edge, instead of sharing their works-in-progress and discussing their practice openly.
I enjoy open format competitions much more, those in which all the pieces that deserve a certain level of medal receive that medal. And that’s not only because I’ve actually managed to take away a few of them myself! Such a format encourages experimentation over perfection, individual impact over brutal comparison. And, of course, non-GW events also allow for non-GW models, which I’m finding more and more attractive as I go forward.
Also, to echo Vince’s point, the fact that only medal-winners are photographed and shared by Games Workshop (and only from one main angle) is also a bit of an insult. There are hundreds and hundreds of incredible models in those cabinets that deserve professional photography and a wide audience, but they don’t get the spotlight. I would pay top dollar for a print book covering a wide array of entries.
If green dots and finalists can be decided in a matter of hours (I knew I wasn’t getting anything by Saturday afternoon, less than two hours after entering), then there should be plenty of time to grab a few shots. Show the world the breadth of Golden Demon entries, not just those of the masters.
Totally unrelated screenshot of my bronze-winning Salute entry…
The future of my hobby
And so, I think that’s probably it for me. I need to paint my silly little models for the joy of it, and I’ve found that Golden Demon doesn’t bring me as much of that as it once did.
It’s an incredible display of skill and an amazing opportunity to chat with fellow hobbyists, but I think I’m going to focus my efforts on other competitions where I can get all that and more – competitions like Salute, Fen Model Show and Scale Model Challenge. I don’t ever want to have to blindly buy another expensive three-day ticket for the experience I had this weekend.
Funnily enough, now the competition is over for another year, I can stop working on ‘entries’ and start working on ‘my guys’, and that’s always been what the hobby is about for me. That’s what makes me keen to get to the painting table. And that’s what I’ll keep sharing with you here, and on my Instagram (@illuminator_hobby).
For all my gripes with Games Workshop as a business today, I still love their settings, I still love playing their games with friends, and I still love me some Space Marines, Chaos Warriors and Night Goblins.
But when it comes to competitive painting, it’s time for me to branch out. And I really would encourage others wanting to enter or grow in the competitive scene look outside Golden Demon. Because the miniature painting hobby is much bigger than Warhammer.
Hi all, sorry for the lack of updates here! I’ve been busy on Instagram (@Illuminator_Hobby) over the past year and a bit. Just popping into say, go and download this incredible magazine!
I’ve been absolutely blown away and humbled by the response to my recent hobby experiment. Upon writing, the Instagram community have watched the short video I posted almost 18,000 times! Never before have I spent a whole day fielding questions and sending thanks. It’s really filled my bitter, grimdark heart with joy.
So I wanted to put together something of a tutorial/review for you all! I hope here I can answer some of the questions that have been flooding my way today.
I present to you: The Knights Resplendent
The Knights Resplendent in their chromed out glory
Witness Me!
There’s always been a little part of me screaming out for Space Marines that shine. The 41st Millennium is a very dark and grimy place but I think that, somewhere out there, there would have to be a band of super radical, 80s neon-bright warriors taking down the enemies of the Emperor while glittering like a He-Man hero. The release of the new, slick Primaris Marines (which I still refuse to see as a new “species” of Marine, rather an up-sizing for sake of scale), was the perfect opportunity to try bring my vision to life. I just needed the right tool.
I found the secret weapon in the form of a paint marker from legendary graffiti brand Molotow: the Liquid Chrome (20 Years Edition) Marker. I should mention off the bat, I’m in no way connected to the brand, or an “influencer” of any kind (*cough* not yet *cough*).
Let’s break the marker down a bit, shall we? The marker is essentially a big tube of super shiny, alcohol-based paint that is pushed out by pressure on the nib (which comes in 1mm, 2mm or 4mm sizes). Of course, the bigger the nib, the bigger the pen (thus more paint), but for scale work, 1mm works spectacularly.
My first experiment with this super-pigmented paint was on a Tau Battlesuit, used to decorate the inner metal and icons. When I painted this in Australia, eBay only gave me access to the 2mm version of the pen, which made it difficult (impossible even) to cover some surfaces. In this case, I pushed down the nib into a small groove in my palette to create a pool of paint, which I quickly applied with an old brush. Of course, this method resulted in a lot of lost detail and an rough, bubbly finish.
My first experiment with Molotow Liquid Chrome
It should be noted, there are plenty of high-shine paints on the market, and a lot of chrome spray paints, but I was lucky enough to stumble upon this through graffiti culture and find it works very well with a minimum of fuss. No need for buffing powders or anything, just shake well, and apply. The main drawbacks are that the markers are relatively expensive, and would be a bit impractical if used to paint an entire army, as I will explain below.
The sub-assembly of the chromed-up Space Marine Sergeant
Putting it into Practice
As already mentioned, applying the paint couldn’t be easier. Of course, it’s best to keep your minis partially un-assembled at this stage because, unlike a brush, the marker is rather thick and will not bend to enter hard-to-reach places. I constructed the bodies of the Easy to Build Intercessors, leaving their arms and backpacks on the sprue until the coat was roughly even.
To apply the paint, simply shake well, press down a bit on a palette to get the paint running through the nib, and then draw onto the surface. Remarkably, the paint smooths itself out really well, flowing across the surfaces as a slightly glittery fluid then congealing as an almost rubbery, smooth mass. Naturally, you can’t really thin this (to my knowledge), so you’ll have to be content with a less-than-totally-crisp look. If you look closely at the photos of my painted examples, though, it hardly overloads details unless over-used or multiple coats are made to correct mistakes … no pressure, though!
I found, on my first try, that drawing over mistakes while the paint is still wet is a really bad move. Because the paint sets completely very, very slowly, drawing on the surface without waiting some hours will result in a rough, damaged and globby surface that is nowhere near as flat and shiny. For a truly mirror like finish, try and get everything painted in one quick go, and if you need to fix things up later, apply another layer only after a fair amount of time has passed (in this case, I only fixed up mistakes the next day or later). This restricts you a bit, and can result in some imperfect results (see, the results of clipping the backpack from the sprue on the image below), so be prepared.
A close-up in which you can probably see a bit of “thickness” appearing, specifically in the thick line of the backpack.
Another very important note: keep your grubby mits off the model! While it’s drying, the finish is incredibly fragile and even after it has dried, it remains easy to damage. Simply touching the model (leaving trace body oils) will result in a dulled shine, closer to Games Workshop’s brightest silvers rather than a true chrome. As such, I don’t think I’ll ever risk gaming with these fellows, or extending the project into a full army (because of cost restrictions as well).
Once the coat is on and dried, you can pick out details around (I used a lot of White/Celestra Grey, because dark objects seem to appear as holes rather than details against the chrome). The paint itself dries so smooth and shiny that properly thinned paint simply balls up and separates like water off a duck’s back. Because of this, plan ahead and only paint the areas you want to be shiny. I found that using another art marker (a 0.03 Copic Promarker) actually work better than paint to draw in black lines, such as grooves in the armour or between the shoulder pad and trim.
I have yet to experiment with varnishing these models (to tell you a secret … I have never varnished a model) and so do not know if the coat of protection will affect the shine. My guess, from just touching the finish, is that it probably would. Perhaps a gloss varnish might serve to enhance or alter the effect in interesting ways, but you’d have to take care to not make the whole model glossy.
And that’s about it in terms of tutorial! Elegant, right?
The mirror-like effect is more pronounced on large, flat surfaces. You can see a bit of the yellow tarp I use to protect my painting table reflected in the armour here.
Fact File: The Knights Resplendent
++ 002.M42 ++
++ Database of Potentially Renegade Adeptus Astartes ++
++ File: The Knights “Resplendent” ++
++ Thought of the Day: What fear of death have we who know there is immortality in the great and noble deeds of men?++
In psychotropic warzones across the Imperium Nihilis, a highly ostentatious Chapter of Adeptus Astartes have been recorded launching shock-and-awe assaults that have, more often than not, resulted in the total disruption of enemy organisation within hours. The chapter bears no codex-compliant livery upon their armour, and little numerical or rank identification, though all known members operate in armour shined to mirror-like brightness (for reasons yet to be explained to the Adeptus Administratum [file appends: Attempted_Blockade_of_The_Knights_Resplendent]). Though their uniformly dazzling armour is highly conspicuous, The Knights Resplendent are a reserved chapter, operating in secret until their brutal method of warfare (consisting of sudden, excessive barrages of high-ordinance, surgical drop-pod strikes and [REDACTED]altering [REDACTED][file appends: Weapons_of_Sensory_Overload_and_their_Application]. Further to these troubling claims is the fact that the Gene-Seed source of the chapter has yet to be catalogued and ratified, suppressed by agents of His Holiness, Forge-Lord of [REDACTED], [REDACTED].
Rounding Up
So I think I’ll call this little experiment a wild success! There’s still more to be learned in this process, such as: how varnishes will affect the finish? Will the shine hold for years? How many models can you paint with one pen? Can you paint with a brush straight from the ink refill bottle? (My guess on this last one is: probably not smoothly).
For now, I’m planning to leave The Knights Resplendent here. I want to, perhaps, paint a Gravis Armoured Captain (or better yet… another Dreadnought), but that will be it for the marker I have, I reckon. Apart from Space Marines, I think this ink/paint would look amazing on Necrons, some neon Skitarii (one of my first thoughts when playing with the paint) or any other miniature that is smooth, futuristic and cyber-punkish. Though Infinity minis might be a little small in scale to apply this to, I also reckon the possibilities for use in that universe are endless!
I hope this helps and answers some questions. If you’re keen to see more of my work, follow this blog and my Instagram (@illuminator_hobby) and be sure to let me know if you find a cool application for this awesome marker!
So 2017 has come to an end, the world has made one more lap around the sun and my pile of “to-do” miniatures continues to grow.
This has been a rather special year, as some of my regular readers or followers would know, as it’s been a year in which I’ve moved from the quiet and damp Adelaide Hills to the sunny, colourful and lively south of Spain. I’ve had to leave a lot behind, almost my entire collection of miniatures and all my tools and paints, but have gained a lot in terms of focus, proximity to the world of the Mediterranean masters and easier access to some of the best miniature makers in the world. Giving up army painting (for the most part… I still have some Salamanders to finish and an itching to start some Spiderfang 😉) has been a pretty natural choice for someone who hasn’t played a proper game in two or three years. So it’s a win win.
The largest part of my WIP posts and discussion on process this year has taken place on Instagram, so if you haven’t already, be sure to click the link in the menu above and follow my Instagram page at @Illuminator_hobby
And rather than make multiple pages (waste not, want not!) I thought I would create a bit of a master-post of the display pieces I’ve been practicing on over the past year! It’s been a really productive year in which I’ve taken my miniature painting to the next level, inspired by the ‘Eavy Metal Facebook group and the amazing community of painters on Instagram. There’s still a long, long, long way to go before I’m going to be confident entering things like Hussar, Golden Demon or Silver Brush, but now I at least have a goal that I’m working towards every day.
July 2017: Slaanesh Daemon Prince of Chains/The Heirophant
August: Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders
October/November: SLAMBO
My first miniature painted with Army Painter War Colours
November: Papa Jambo Bust
And here we have him, my masterpiece for the year. Definitely the piece I’m most proud of so far, and something of a diversion from my normal work.
Thanks to everyone who’s followed me here, on Instagram and given me support over Facebook or in real life. It’s been an incredible year of hobby, and I look forward to pushing forward into uncharted territory in this new one!
Illuminator 